Aftermath (18 page)

“Fine,” Kerry replied mechanically, forcing a stiff smile.

Isabel noticed the dark shadows under her eyes and the paleness of her face. Saoirse didn’t look much better. It was obvious that neither of them had been sleeping very well.

“Would it be possible to talk to you on your own, Mrs. Darcy?”

Kerry glanced at her daughter who glared mutinously back.

“We won’t be long,” Isabel nodded to the girl as she led Mrs
.
Darcy to the interview room.

“This seems very formal,” Kerry said in a clipped tone.

“Well, Mrs
.
Darcy, we need to investigate the situation between you and Hope and your husband.”

“There is no situation,” Kerry said wearily. “I’m his wife. You can ask anyone.”

“Do have a marriage certificate?” Isabel asked. “I’ll need Conor’s birth certificate too please.”

“Of course I have them,” Kerry said defensively. “I brought them with me, just like you asked.”

She rummaged about in her bag for a moment before handing the documents to Isabel. “I brought you our wedding album, too.”

“I see,” Isabel took the paperwork and album from her and began flicking through them. “Is this the best man and bridesmaid?” she asked, pointing to one of the photos.

“He’s Conor’s brother. He lives in New York now, emigrated years ago and that’s my old college friend, Sophie. She lives in Australia but we’re still in touch.”

“How many people were at the wedding?” Isabel asked, continuing to study the album. She stopped turning the pages for a moment to study one of the photos more closely. “Were your parents there?”

“Conor’s parents were there but my parents died when I was a baby.”

“Oh,
I’m sorry,” Isabel was quite
taken aback by the starkness of Kerry’s words.

“It’s fine. I never knew them so I suppose you can’t miss what you never had. I was lucky enough to have a wonderful aunt and uncle who adopted us.”

“Us?” Isabel looked at her quizzically.

“Yes, I have a twin sister, Maura.”

“Did Conor see much of his parents?”

“Not really. They live in the country
side, miles from anywhere. He
was never particularly close to them. He didn’t ta
lk about them much at all. We went
to see them now and then but I don’t thin
k his dad really likes me
. I know it sounds mad but I think his dad wanted him to marry a girl from the local village and settle nearby. He probably thinks I lured his son away. I don’t
think
he likes women very much. He can be a right old grump, always giving out about something. I don’t know how his wife puts up with him. His dad says I think I’m too good for them in my own mind, which is complete nonsense. I know Conor dated a few girls from his village but there was never anyone serious until he met me
, or at least, that’s what he told me
.”

Kerry
coughed, not knowing quite what to say next. Clearly there was someone else serious in his life and that someone was Hope.

“Can I get you a drink of water?” Isabel asked kindly.

“No, I’m fine. Let’s just get this over and done with,” Kerry nodded
firmly and shook her head
, trying to regain her composure.

“How would you describe your relationship with your husband?” Isabel continued.

“I thought we had a good, solid relationship,” Kerry replied. “We could talk about anything and we had fun. He was away a lot
with work which could be
difficult at times, but I was always happy to see him when he returned and I believed he was happy to see me too. He genuinely seemed to miss me when he was gone and even suggested that I come with him when he travelled abroad for meetings but of course I couldn’t, I had a hous
e to run and children to care for
. Obviously, it was just a ploy on his part. He knew I couldn’t come which is probably why he suggested it in the first place.”

“Have you ever had any tri
al separations or has there ever
been anyone else involved in your relationship?” Isabel asked, noting the bitter tone that had crept into Kerry’s voice.

“
I’ve just told you that I thought we had a rock solid marriage, until now,” Kerry snapped, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “No, in answer to your question, we have never had a trial separation or even remotely discussed such a thing.”

“Why do you think Hope Gilligan is claiming to be his wife?” Isabel asked gently. “She seems to firmly believe it.”

“How the hell would I know? She’s obviously completely off her head!” She grabbed a tissue from the box on the table in front of her and scrubbed her tears away. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry.

“Maybe she’s
in a relationship with him and it’s easier for
her to say that they’re married.
What do you think?”

“I suppose it would be a lot less embarrassing for her,” Kerry said in disgust, “especially with a baby on the way.”

“Is it possible that there really is something between them but you didn’t know anything about it?”

Kerry began absent-mindedly pulling the tissue in her hand into tiny shreds. She stared unseeingly out the window while Isabel watched her silently.

“Who knows? Anything is possible it seems. It doesn’t matter anyway, he can only be married to one person and that’s obviously me.”

Isabel remained silent.

“There was a time a few years a
go when we went through
a bad patch,” Kerry reluctantly admitted. She scrunched the tiss
ue into a ball and flung it in
the waste paper basket by her feet. “He was working away more and more. Often, he’d be gone for weeks at a time. I wa
s
finding it difficult coping with the children on my own
and trying to manage my writing too. I don
’t know how I would have coped
without my sister’s help.”
Kerry pulled another tissue from the box and blew her nose loudly. “Actually, I will have that drink of water if you don’t mind.”

Isabel got up from her chair and poured two glasses of water from the cooler in the corner.

“Carry on,” Isabel gently encourage
d her as she placed the
ice-cold glass in front of her.

“I suggested that he should try delegating some of his meetings. Surely there were other people in the business who could take his place every now and then. We argued a lot. He said we needed the money to keep the house running and the girls in private school. I said we didn’t need the money that badly, not if it meant hardly ever seeing him. What was the point in having lots of cash and never being together? Anyway, he was working all the hours God sent and I was preoccupied with the children and my own work so I guess, for a while, we sort of drifted apart.”

“I see,” Isabel said thoughtfu
lly, continuing to scribble
notes in her pad.

“I don’t understand where he would have gotten the time for an affair, to
be honest. He was working very long
hours and he always seemed completely exhausted when he was home. Even when he was home he was constantly on the computer emailing or Skyping.
But w
e got through that period and we sorted it all out. I love him and I know he loves me too.”

“Have you had any news on him?” Isabel asked, deciding to change the subject. She could see
how difficult it was for Kerry having her relationship probed in such a way
. It must be difficult having to reveal the intimate details of your marriage to anyone let alone a complete stranger
, Isabel thought
sympathetically
.

“No news
,” Kerry sighed
deeply. “We’ve had a few crank calls
and dead-end leads. It’s beginning to feel like he’s vanished off the face of the earth.” She sniffed. “It’s all so unreal. My husband is missing. I’ve no idea if he’s dead or alive and instead of being able t
o concentrate on finding him the only thing I can
think about is that woman and why on earth she’s claiming to be married to my husband. It’s not possible, absolutely no way. There was never any thought of Conor and I getting a divorce, never. We went through a bad patch for a while like most people experience, but it was never so bad that we even considered leaving each other, not even for a moment. We’ve been together too long and have too much love and respect for each other.”

Isabel eyed Kerry carefully. It sounded to her like Kerry was trying to convince herself of the stability of her relationship. One minute she was beginning to grasp the fact that her husband might have had another woman and the next
minute
she was refusing to believe any of it.

“I’ll be talking to Hope too,” Isabel said. “I’ll be sure to keep you updated with any developments.”

“Thanks,” Kerry smiled weakly.

“Just one more question, Mrs
.
Darcy, if I may?”

“Go ahead.”

“What happened at holidays and special occasions like Christmas?” Isabel asked.

“Christmas is one of the busiest times of the
year
for Conor,” Kerry answered.
There was
a defensive note in her voice.
“If there’s any crisis at the hotels, Conor is expected to sort it out. Sometimes he’s called away unexpectedly. I know the hotels have their own manager but last Christmas there was a shooting at one of the hotels in Germany and he had to be there. He’s very well paid for his job and I’ve never particularly minded until recent years. The c
hildren are growing up fast and seem to need me
less. I miss him more and more and his working away so much was really starting to lose its appeal…” Her voice trailed off and she stared at the
desk in front of her, not
knowing what else to say.

“That’s about all I need for now, Mrs
.
Darcy,” Isabel smiled, getting to her feet. “Thank you for coming in. As soon as I have any more information I’ll be in touch.”

Isabel finished the last of her double shot Americano coffee and braced herself for the interview she had scheduled with Hope that afternoon. She was mentally and emotionally exhausted already. The interview with Kerry that morning had
taken a lot out of her. She
felt very sorry for Kerry. The woman seemed very tired, broken almost
, like she’d had about all she could take.
Nobody could blame her,
she
thought as she made her way down the hall to the waiting room where Hope and her mother were waiting for her.

“Thank you for coming,” Isabel held out her hand to Hope which she shook limply.

“Did I have a choice?” Hope
asked rudely.

Isabel chose to ignore her and instead led them back along the corridor to the interview room.

“How are you?” she asked.

Hope shrugged. Isabel could see that, just like Kerry, she was very pale. The dark rings under her eyes seemed even more pronounced than Kerry’s but there was a defiant glint in her dark eyes.

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” Isabel cont
inued. “I
need to clear up a few things. The sooner we sort it out the better.”

Hope glared at her mutinously. “What do you need to sort out exactly?”

“Well, there’s obviously quite a serious situation here and it’s in everyone’s best interests to resolve it,” Isabel replied, finding it difficult to keep the note of irritation out of her voice. Hope’s attitude was beginning to grate on her nerves. After all, she had a job to do. It wasn’t her fault that she found herself in this situation.

“You believe her, don’t you?” Hope shot Isabel a contemptuous glare. “Mrs. Lady of the Manor, you think she’s his wife, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Isabel replied evenly. “I just want to do my job and find out the truth.”

“This is just a job to you. You don’t care about the human element involved. You want to close your file and move on to your next pathetic case.”

“Hope, please,” Chantale patted her daughter’s arm. “None of this is
Garda Murray’s
fault.”

“I never said it was her fault,” Hope turned on her mother
,
“
but this is none of her business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Isabel interrupted. She’d had about enough of Hope’s bad attitude towards her. “Unfortunately, it’s very much my business, and you’re correct in thinking that I want to resolve the case and move on.”

“Why don’t you go and catch some real criminals? Aren’t there some murderers or rapists who need locking up? I suppose it’s more interesting to poke your nose into other people’s private lives
instead
.”

Isabel took a deep breath to calm the temper that was beginning to rise. It wasn’t for nothing that she’d been born with red streaks in her hair; she had the fiery temper to match. It was all she could do to restrain herself from reaching across the table and giving Hope a short, sharp slap across the face. Members of the public were constantly telling her the same thing “go away and catch some real criminals.” She’d lost count of the number of times she’d had that particular insult shouted after her in the street. Police work was so much more than catching serious criminals, in her opinion, but the public would never appreciate that fact.